Summary: Daeron's fleet will arrive, soon, to King's Landing, and some of the hostages wonder about their wardens and new lives. Meanwhile, a knight watches over them.

The Sun is, still, hidden but it does not rain, and Lanei takes the news with no few relief. Her cloak is already wet from the former short downpour and there was not time to put it to dry conveniently, hence she left her cabin uncloaked, for once, since most of her baggage was sent to the storage area and out her reach. The Sea is oddly quiet, she notices, but being little used to sailing, the dornish lady could not say if this way would be usual or not.

As she approaches the railing and leans over, in a tired way, the young Fowler yawns, her eyes wandering, distractedly, to the North and the lands that, quickly, are getting closer. A thousand questions hit her mind: questions with no answer, for they swirl around the new life awaiting her. And, now and then, these thoughts lead her back to Skyreach.

Liane yet paces the deck. As she has for the last month at sea, and as she’ll undoubtedly continue for the remainder of the voyage, she paces along the rail with regular steps. Caged. Eventually, inevitably, her steps bring her to Lanei, where she pauses. “The rest of our lives just got much longer, didn’t it?” she observes quietly, taking a look around the deck.

Mildly startled by the unexpected voice, the lady relaxes back as soon as identifies its owner. With a sad nod Lanei agrees to the Uller’s woman, and waves, idly, to the shores. “And I cannot help but wonder what will await us there. Aside many other considerations… these people’s customs are so much different of ours. And, still, I would care very little, if only…” Both sentences are left unfinished, for Lanei turns the topic into a more pragmatical issue. “Have you heard… Do you know if any raven arrived, recently, to the ship?.”

“Can ravens find ships at sea?” Liane asks idly, moving to take hold of the rail, gaze directed outwards. “I’ve not noticed any. As for what we’ll find ahead, I suspect more of the same. For these people, we’re every Dornishman who slew their brother, their father, their husband or lover or son. Perhaps it will be easier when we’re all together again.”

“I don’t know, for really I know naught of Ravenry” she shrugs helplessly at Liane’s question. “Wouldn’t they, do you think? For, perhaps, a well-trained hawk would find his way back to the Master, especially if he is sent from those shores” she waved them again, “and to this ship. But, again, I know nothing of the matter.”

She pauses before to comment her companion’s next words. “More of the same ֖ or more shame?”. Her fair face darkens a little. Well, not so little. “I do know, they keep no love for us, and, in retribution, we keep none for them too. For they killed our brothers, fathers, husbands… and lovers.”

“Discretion is oft the better part of valor,” Liane muses, letting out a slow breath. “Look at them. They can’t go for a moment without sniping at each other. It’s no wonder their king turned them on Dorne for a war. Elsewise his own kingdom would have been torn to bits,” she snorts softly, gaze dark.

“Indeed, wartimes are good to unit the men, for they provide them of a common goal. Before this war, I would have added that, especially, it happens when a land is attacked, but now, I am not the same sure” Lanei states, quietly, sadness overwhelming her over and over. “Our men did a few errs, as it was to argue what to do and what not, while the invaders took their advantage. But you are right in one thing I already noticed: They don’t get along, nay. That is… good.”

“The Blackbolt was with the men who killed Berec. The Iron Serpent killed Utheryn. And yet, of all of them, those two have been least offensive,” Liane muses quietly. “And I don’t even know if I should be grateful that they don’t goad my anger, or insulted that they-” She sighs, shaking her head. “I don’t know. I will be grateful for one thing at King’s Landing, if they just house us all together. And enclave of Dorne would be a relief right now.”

Lanei’s face darkens more, if such a thing were possible, at the mention of Dagur and Utheryn. Looking down at the water, even if to hide her face for a moment, lost amidst some rebel locks, she nods quietly. “I know what you mean, and pretty well. Also that Jonothor Arryn… I met him this morning, and he was kind… at least all the kind a man like him would be, which is a lot. As for our arrival and housing… I don’t think I will get used to live in such a place. Big and dirty, I have heard. And, for us, a prison. I thought I would get mad during Hellholt’s siege, and after all, I was with our people. How to deal with this, and to keep our sanity?.”

“I somehow suspect that our sanity is not their prime concern,” Liane notes with quiet dryness, leaning down to place an elbow on the rail and dangle her arm beyond the side of the ship. “Just as I suspect that wondering will do us little good. So for now, I will live for the day, and count each day a victory. If I have no control over my life, then I will not make myself ill with worrying over it.”

Bryce is up and reasonably healthy, for once, lingering near the railing and watching the sea neverthenless. One never knows.. He doesn’t try to take up so much space, staying away from trouble and away from thoughts, memories, sickness.. what have you.

“Let’s hope that to keep us alive will be, at least, their prime concern, if that King of them can keep his word and to have his knights doing the same?. For it is hard to be constantly pressed till the edges of that sanity they would care so little. Besides֗ Well, you know what I mean, don’t you?”. She sighs again, and her eyes survey the deck, and those wandering the place, idly or in duty. Not a lot of them, because it is lunchtime. Much better.

In the end, they fall upon the figure of Bryce Caron. She nods to him in greeting, despite the man seems to be lost in his own thoughts so, probably, he might miss it. “And let’s hope we will be together, in King’s Landing, and not spread.”

“Speaking of together,” Liane sighs softly. “I promised Serion I’d spend some time with him today.” She casts a long look towards the dark maw of the passage belowdecks, reluctant, but pushes off the rail. “I’m sure I’ll see you again soon,” she adds with a faint, wry smile before turning to head down.

“Have a good day, and send him my regards, would you” Lanei nods and offers. “And… take care. We are too far from home.”

“I will do so,” Liane promises with a small smile, then disappears below.

When turning your head makes you remember.. Bryce winces, but forces himself to at least take a brief look out over the deck so everything is as it should and he isn’t needed anywhere. A long look is given to the few Dornish hostages present, nodding just the amount needed to show respect, yet little enough to make it clear what he thinks of them.

Lanei eyes her kinswoman’s leaving and shakes her head. With a sigh, she turns back to look at the shores, and doing her best to ignore Bryce’s eyes upon her. Well, if he wished to speak to her he would come, wouldn’t he?. Not much time passes as the bell calls for lunch and the lady is forced to turn her attention to much pressing matters, as is to take her meal. As she walks towards the stairs leading to the cabins, the dornish lady nods again to Bryce and, with this, looking not at him for a second time, Lanei climbs down the stairs and vanishes from sight.

Bryce follows her with a long gaze, then, as if reminding himself that she is, in fact, not only the hostage he is supposed to watch but also the enemy, he snaps back with his gaze and looks at the sea. “A damned long journey..” he mutters to himself.